


It’s Not Really about Krampus

by SqueekaCuomo



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, X-Files Secret Santa Fanfic Exchange, mulder/scully christmas, x-files, x-files Christmas, x-files pre-millennium
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:53:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21895093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SqueekaCuomo/pseuds/SqueekaCuomo
Summary: Snowflakes. Krampus. And late night phone calls.But it's not really about Krampus....
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44
Collections: X-Files Secret Santa Fanfic Exchange (2019)





	It’s Not Really about Krampus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Theatre_In_The_Dark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theatre_In_The_Dark/gifts).



**It’s Not Really about Krampus**

White and tiny, it fell. So small and delicate that she almost missed it, but the flake still managed to catch Scully’s eye. It floated gracefully through the air, like a prima ballerina dipping into an elegant bow at the end of a perfect performance. It sparkled as it fell, and Scully found that she couldn’t look away.

It was 11:27 on Christmas Eve and Scully stood at the sink in Bill’s kitchen, a feeling of unease deep within her soul. 

Scully had always loved spending Christmas with her family. The kids. The chaos. The chance to feel like she was _home_ , even if she really wasn’t. She knew it was only temporary, like a snapshot of someone else from a different time, but it still filled her with warmth and joy to be part of it. 

Well…. It normally did.

But not tonight.

Tonight, Scully found herself unable to sleep; worry and guilt nagging at her subconscious. As far as she could tell everyone was tucked away, snug in their beds, a place she desperately wished she could be. But after half an hour of tossing and turning she’d given up and crawled out of bed. Now she stood at the kitchen sink wearing a robe that was too thin for winter and heavy socks that made her feet look a size larger than they really were. 

The small light above the kitchen window made a perfect spotlight for the lone flake as it was caught in a breeze and whipped out of sight. It was quickly replaced by a second and a third, both performing the same gentle ballet as the first. They were the first flakes in an unusually warm winter, and they made Scully wish that she could call Melissa. It was an ache so painful it nearly took her breath away. 

As little girls they’d both thrilled at the sight of the first snow of the year. Even if it was just a few flurries, like tonight, they’d run out in it, twirling and giggling that magical laughter that can only come from a small child. When they’d gotten older, the giggles had turned to knowing laughs filled with life and love; their spinning together in the backyard had become long phone calls as they watched the snowfall outside of their windows. 

Every year, when Scully saw shimmering white flakes falling for the first time, she thought of Melissa. 

In the years since her sister’s death, Scully had started imaging what she would say to her sister, if they could talk. Some days she struggled with what she’d like to say to her sister, about what she’d tell her about her job and all of the weird twists her life had taken lately. But tonight, it was simple. She wanted to tell her about Mulder and about her trip to Africa. She wanted to tell Melissa about how scared she’d been for her partner’s life, and how she was still worried, even though he seemed to be doing ok. 

Scully wanted to hear her sister’s theories about how Mulder’s spirit would heal, or how his mind was strong and would… well, to be honest, she really didn’t know what exactly her sister would say. Her sister’s new age beliefs had never really meant much to Scully, so she’d never _really_ listened. Tonight, not for the first time, she wished she had. Tonight, she just wanted Melissa to tell her that everything was going to be ok and if that included healing crystals or incense, Scully didn’t care. She just wanted her sister. 

The falling snow too much to bear, Scully turned away from the window. She leaned against the counter, pressing into the edge, the bite of the counter top against her spine bringing her back to the present. The kitchen was dark around her; she hadn’t bothered to flip on the lights when she’d entered. 

From the door, she could see the glow of the Christmas tree in the front room. Not long from now, Bill and his wife would creep downstairs to play Santa. Scully smiled a little as she thought about the kids rushing from the kitchen with a plate of cookies and a carrot stick. Bill had refused to let them carry the glass of milk and as a cookie crashed to the floor and shattered into a flurry of crumbs, Scully couldn’t blame him.

Scully took a deep breath and wrapped her arms around herself. She didn’t want to go back to bed, she knew that sleep was still beyond her grasp and that tossing and turning would only irritate her more, but she didn’t want to stand in a dark kitchen either. She wanted…

A small chirping ring cut through the quiet of the night. 

At first, Scully thought she’d imagined it, but when her ears picked up on it again, Scully strained to listen. Sure enough, it was her cell. Bill had asked her to turn it off overnight, so it wouldn’t wake the children, but Scully had refused, citing work. Bill hadn’t been able to argue that one. He had, however, asked her to turn the volume down. She’d agreed to the small compromise. 

Scully found herself quickly padding down the dark hallway as quickly as possible, hoping that she would make it in time. She didn’t really know how long the phone had been ringing, or how long the caller would wait. As she tried to be as quiet as a mouse, she wondered if something had happened at work, if Skinner was calling about some kind of attack or invasion that only she and Mulder could deal with. She wouldn’t allow herself to hope that it was Mulder. If she did and it wasn’t, she knew that the knot of anxiety in her stomach would only get worse. 

Reaching out, Scully snatched her phone off the bedside table in the guest bedroom. “Hello?” she breathed into the phone, trying and failing to hide the fact that she was out of breath.

“Woah there, Scully. Got a hot date over at Big Bro Bill’s?” Mulder, voice light and amused, chuckled at his own joke. 

“Mulder,” Scully breathed out, even though she already knew it was him.

“Yeah, Scully, it’s me.” He chuckled a little and Scully could see the smile on his face; soft and genuine, just enough to reach his eyes. Scully couldn’t help herself, she smiled too. 

There was a moment when neither said anything. Scully supposed that it was her turn to speak, but with the familiar warmth of Mulder’s voice ringing in her ears, she hated to break the spell with her own. 

“So, uh…” Mulder breathed into the line and Scully could tell that he was searching for something witty to say. “How about that date?” It was lame, they both knew it, but it cleared the air.

“No, Mulder. No date.” She knew that he hadn’t been serious, that she didn’t really need to explain that to him, but she did anyway. It was the perfect excuse to test out her voice. 

Mulder didn’t bother replying. “So, what are you still doing up?”

“I…,” Scully thought of the snow and her sister, of her worries over Mulder. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Santa won’t come unless you’re a good girl, tucked in bed, you know?”

It was Scully’s turn to ignore him. “Mulder, if you thought I’d be asleep, why did you call?”

“I don’t know, took a chance. I was actually thinking about last year…” Scully remembered Christmas Eve from last year all too well. An abandoned house. A decomposed body that looked all too familiar. And a ghost story that was a little too real for her taste.

“I’m not meeting you anywhere tonight, Mulder.” She instantly regretted saying it. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see him, but she wasn’t going to spend another Christmas Eve convinced that she’d been shot, or chasing long-dead lovers, or whatever else Mulder came up with.

“I know that, Scully.” His voice was unreadable, but Scully could hear the tell-tale shuffling of a case file through the phone line. “Really, I-”

“What’s in the file, Mulder?” She still refused to leave her brother’s house, but Scully could at least listen, she could give Mulder that much.

“Who says I have a case file?”

Scully didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, she just waited. He wouldn’t be able to hold out forever.

“I heard about a series of abductions, children being taken by,” she heard the file rustling as Mulder searched for something, “a demented looking Santa with horns.” 

Scully rolled her eyes, the action more amusement than annoyance. She could feel her muscles relaxing, the beginning of a yawn pulling at the back of her throat. “And you think…” She was happy to let him finish the sentence.

“I thought it sounded suspiciously like Krampus.” She could hear the excitement in his voice, and she found herself smiling fondly.

“Krampus?”

“An anti-Claus, basically. Legend has it-”

Scully didn’t bother to hold back the yawn that was threatening to overtake her. She didn’t know if the thought of Santa’s evil twin, or just hearing Mulder’s voice had made her sleepy, but she found herself much more relaxed than when she’d crawled out of bed. 

Mulder chuckled a little, before saying, “I should let you go.” Scully knew just how difficult it was for Mulder to say those words. Once an idea took hold of him, he would pursue it single-mindedly, even if it led them on a wild Krampus chase. “It’s late.”

“No, not really.” Scully tried to sound convincing, but she knew that her tone had betrayed her. “Tell me more ab-”

“We can talk about it tomorrow… I mean, on Monday.” She heard the folder rustling closed on Mulder’s end of the line. Scully knew it wouldn’t stay that way for more than a few minutes. “Get some sleep. I hear that kids are a lot to deal with on Christmas morning.” He tried to laugh, but Scully knew it was only for her benefit. 

Scully smiled anyway; she appreciated his effort. “Thank you, Mulder.”

This time, when he spoke, the emotion in Mulder’s voice was genuine, “For what?” He sounded surprised, but she couldn’t figure out why.

Scully wanted to say; _for calling when I needed to hear your voice the most_ or _thank you for being there for me when my sister could not_ or _speaking with you was what I needed to be able to sleep_. But she said none of those things. Instead, she said, “for letting me get some rest. Big day tomorrow.”

“So I hear,” he joked. “Goodnight, Scully.”

“Goodnight, Mulder.” Scully placed her phone back on the nightstand and crawled into bed. 

She fell asleep instantly. 

She could tell that she’d barely been asleep when her body jerked awake, reacting instinctively to the soft ringing of her cell. Even though she was groggy, even though her muscles longed to relax back into the warmth of the mattress, her mind was on high alert. “Hello?” Scully clutched phone to her ear, late-night phone calls always set her on edge.

Mulder must have heard the tension in her voice because he said, “it’s just me, Scully.”

“Mulder?” Scully sat up in bed, trying to force her body into action. “It’s after…” she leaned forward to read the clock on the nightstand. “After midnight.” Had she really only been asleep for fifteen minutes?

“I know,” he laughed. “I just wanted to say… Merry Christmas.”

“Oh,” Scully pushed her hair back out of her eyes, realization dawning on her. It was after midnight. It was officially Christmas. “Merry Christmas, Mulder.” She smiled softly to herself. 

“Goodnight, Scully.” 

Mulder hung up before she had a chance to reply, but she whispered, “goodnight, Mulder,” anyway before giving in to her tired body and easing back into the soft covers.

Scully dreamt of a beach with clear water, Santa’s sleigh buried deep enough that she could just make out the outline of one of the sides. There were words carved in the cherry-red wood and someone explained to her that it was elvish. Standing not far away was an alien feeding sunflower seeds to a reindeer with mini-baseball bats for antlers. When it opened its mouth, a high-pitched chirping came out. “I’m sorry,” she heard herself say to the animal, “I don’t understand…”

The alien tossed his handful of seeds up in the air where it burst into fat, fluffy snowflakes that fell lazily around him. Scully was dazzled by the glittering flakes just long enough for the alien to walk towards her. When she looked down at him, Scully noticed that he was wearing a familiar, if dull, necktie. “Wake up, Scully.”

One second Scully was asleep and relaxed, the next she was sitting straight up and confused. Her phone was ringing, and she didn’t even have time to worry before grabbing it and pressing it to her ear. “Mulder?”

“Yeah, Scully, I was just wondering, wait...” He paused, and she could imagine the questioning look that was on his face. “Are you ok? It sounds like…”

“I’m fine,” she cut him off. “Weird dream.” With her free hand, Scully reached up and rubbed the back of her neck, scratching the nob at the top of her spine. The feeling of her nails raking over her skin shook some of the dream out of her. She was awake. In bed. Her covers pulled up around her. Everything was fine.

“Let me guess, Elvis and Frohike-”

“No,” she said firmly before he could any further with that scenario. <i>That</i> was the last thing she needed to think about before trying to get back to sleep.

He laughed and she could tell he’d gotten the reaction he’d been hoping for. “Alright. But if you want to talk about it…”

“No, I’m fine.” What was there to talk about, she thought? She’d had a strange dream borne of a restless night, nothing more. Scully didn’t feel like having Mulder trying to analyze her subconscious at, she looked over at the little clock on the nightstand, 2:29 in the morning. “It wasn’t anything important. Just strange.” She couldn’t quite shake the entire dream out of her system but hearing Mulder’s voice was helping. “You called?”

“Right!” Scully could hear papers shuffling on his end of the line and wondered if he was _still_ reading over the file on the abducted kids. “Do you think Santa and Krampus like to hang out and compare lists?”

“I’m sorry, what?” She let her hand fall from her neck, and it landed on the comforter with a small _thud_.

“Compare lists. You know, to see which kids made their lists.” Scully wished she could tell whether he was being serious or not. “Just think about it, there have to be some kids that switch lists. Some who turn good because of Krampus, some who turn naughty from one year to the next.”

“Mulder,” she said, “you do realize that Krampus and Santa aren’t-”

“After all we’ve seen,” he cut in, “you’re going to try and tell me that Santa and Krampus can’t be real? Come on, you have to believe in _something_ by now.” He was laughing again, and Scully could tell that he wasn’t actually being serious. Not tonight, anyway.

“What I believe is that it’s late and you’re tired. And for that matter, so am I.”

“Awww, come on…” Mulder’s teasing made Scully smile just a little. “Just admit it; you’re waiting up for Santa.”

“Santa? I thought this was about Krampus?” Scully scooted back on the bed and leaned against the headboard. Throwing her free arm over her chest, she let herself settle in just a little, crossing her sock covered feet at the ankles. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but she didn’t mind. The lightness in Mulder’s voice was like a soothing balm after everything they’d been through lately. She didn’t care about Krampus, or even Santa Claus, she just cared that he was going to be ok. 

If getting to hear some of the old Mulder again meant listening to theories about a demon version of Santa, then so be it. 

“It is. But we were discussing whether Santa and Krampus get together to compare lists or not.” He sounded so matter of fact, so sincere, that Scully could help but roll her eyes even though she knew he wasn’t really serious. 

“You’re not honestly going to try and tell me that you-”

“It doesn’t matter what I _believe_ , we’re discussing a theory right now.”

Scully wanted to inform him that no, in fact, they were not discussing a theory. And that in reality, what was happening was that he was going on and on about children’s tales and nonsense in the wee hours of Christmas morning. It was at that moment, just when Scully had truly realized how ridiculous the conversation was that Scully realized something…

Mulder wasn’t just alone. 

He was lonely.

He wanted to hear her voice just as much as she wanted to hear his. 

The thought that he’d called just to talk; that he didn’t really care about Krampus warmed Scully from the inside out. She knew he cared about her, but to know that he’d called just to talk, just to hear her voice… it reminded her just how much they really relied on each other. 

He truly was her constant, and she his.

“Well?”

“I’m sorry?” Scully shook her head a little, trying to recall what Mulder had just said.

“I asked what you thought.” 

“I… don’t know.” She hated to admit that she didn’t know what he’d just said, but she couldn’t pretend that she hadn’t either. “I missed the last part.”

“Did you fall asleep?” Normally, Mulder would have made a joke about her falling asleep during one of his explanations, but not tonight. “It’s late, you should get back-”

“No, no. I’m fine,” she assured him. Even as she said it, she could feel a yawn threatening to overtake her. “I was just lost in thought for a moment.”

“I was wondering if you thought that Santa and Krampus liked to drink hot chocolate while they went over their lists.”

The absurdity of the conversation finally got to Scully and she laughed softly. “Oh, Mulder,” she heard herself say. 

“What,” he asked, and Scully could tell that he was trying not to laugh along with her.

She pressed the knuckle of her pointer finger to her mouth and shook her head. The action was lost to the dark of her brother’s guest bedroom, but she knew Mulder. She imagined the look of amusement on his face, the little half-smile that was part confusion and part question. It was the look that usually came right before he got to the craziest part of one of his theories. “Nothing, Mulder.” Normally, she would have tried to stop him before he started down the road of conspiracies and monsters, but not tonight. Tonight…

She just listened and laughed, indulging Mulder’s more ridiculous ideas. Was it possible that Santa was part alien? (Mulder thought so, Scully argued against it, saying he was mythical, not extraterrestrial.) Was there one Krampus, or many? (One Santa. One Krampus. They both agreed on that one.) Did the two rely on each other to exist like the sun and moon, hot and cold? (Obviously. You can’t have one without the other. It was nature’s way of keeping things balanced.) Was Krampus allowed to visit the North Pole, or did they meet on neutral ground? (No way, Scully said. His evil would taint the magic of the North Pole.) And what _would_ neutral ground be for those two? An all-night diner? (Not possible, Mulder had proclaimed. Neither of them would blend in.)

It was complete lunacy of the highest order and the longer they talked, the lower Scully scooched down in the bed, pulling the covers over her and snuggling in. It was awkward, but she managed to keep the phone pressed to her ear. When she giggled just the tiniest bit, Scully realized that she felt like a teenager talking to her crush on the phone for the first time. It was a feeling that warmed her in a way that her blankets hadn’t. It was a feeling that spread from her toes to her nose, from her heart to her soul. 

It was a magic that even Santa Claus himself couldn’t bring. 

It was love; pure love.

Platonic. Romantic. Desperate. Burning. All consuming. 

He was her heart.

He was her mind.

He was her constant. 

Scully felt herself being pulled down, down, down, deeper into her thoughts, into her revelations…

“Dana?” The voice caught Scully’s attention, but she didn’t respond. It was so nice to hear her name, her first name, said with such love and kindness. “Dana?” Scully smiled softly; her eyes closed tightly. “Did you hear me?” No longer able to pretend like she hadn’t heard, Scully opened her eyes.

Melissa stood in the middle of their childhood backyard; a long coat wrapped around her slender frame. She looked like she was sixteen, maybe seventeen. Her strawberry red hair hung loose and long down her back and the apples of her cheeks shone pink like she’d been standing out in the cold for too long. “I said that it’s snowing!” She smiled beatifically and spread her arms wide. Just as she did, huge white snowflakes began to fall lazily around her as if she’d summoned them to her.

Scully laughed and stepped out into the yard. She expected to be a teenager herself, but when she wrapped her arms around herself, she found the tell-tale curves of adulthood. She looked down to confirm what her brain already knew and was surprised to find herself in her pajamas, her socked feet quickly accumulating a dusting of snow. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“Of course it is! It’s the first snowfall of the year.” Melissa looked at her and smiled so brightly, so beautifully, that Scully lost her breath. It had been so long since she’d seen that look on her sister’s face and it made her heart ache. One couldn’t help but be drawn to her spirit whenever they saw pictures of her, but not a single photograph had ever managed to accurately capture the magic of her smile. 

Scully wanted to run to her, to drop to her knees and wrap her arms around her sister’s slight frame, but Melissa’s words stopped her. “He’ll be alright, you know.”

“Who will?” Scully heard herself ask. 

“Fox.” Melissa smiled again, the conspiratorial look of two sisters sharing a secret. “He’ll be ok.”

“I…” Scully held herself more tightly against the cold as Melissa did a little spin, the snow catching in her hair and eyelashes. Scully had always envied her sister’s laid-back nature, her ability to just go with whatever came her way. 

“Don’t deny it,” Melissa ran up to her and unfolded Scully’s arm so that she could hold her hands. “I’ve always been able to tell.” She smiled again, but this time it was full of mischief. It was a look that pictures _had_ managed to capture. “You love him.” 

“Melissa,” Scully squeezed her sister’s hands, “I have missed you so much.” 

“I know,” she nodded, her smile faltering for the first time, “but that’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why? I thought this was just a dream?” Scully reached out and slid her hand over her sister’s long red hair; it was soft as silk, just as Scully remembered it.

“It’s snowing!” Melissa proclaimed again as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And we _always_ talk during the first snowfall of the year.”

“But-” Scully protested.

“No buts. It’s snowing and you needed me.” Melissa’s smile fell and it was like a light had been turned off. “I’m always with you Dana, even if you don’t always know it.”

A hot tear slid down Scully’s cheek, warming a track across her snow-bitten skin. “I love you, Melissa.” She had to say it, had to get it out before she lost her chance. Dream or not, she knew she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t.

“I know, little sis.” Melissa reached out and wiped another tear from Scully’s cheek, ignoring her own. “And I love you too.” She smiled sadly and wiped another stray tear from Scully’s other cheek. “But I’m not the only one…”

“Scully? Scully?” Scully felt herself being pulled away from the backyard, being pulled away from her sister, by a deep voice. Mulder’s voice. “You there?”

“Huh…” Scully pushed herself up on her elbow and rubbed at her eyes. It took her a minute to realize where she was. “What?”

“I think you nodded off.” Mulder chuckled before yawning deeply. “I’m not surprised. It is…,” Scully heard him rustling around and she guessed he was looking for a clock. “Just after five.”

“I…” Scully reached up, remembering the tears that had slid down her cheeks only moments ago. She was shocked to find that her cheeks were freezing like she’d been standing out in the cold. Her fingers stayed pressed against her skin, unable to believe what she was feeling. It had been a dream, just a dream. But her frostbitten cheeks told another story.

“Isn’t it about time for Santa to work his magic in the Scully household?” Another laugh. Another yawn.

Listening to him yawn, Scully knew, without a doubt, that he would be ok. It would take time, but they would get through it together. And when times got tough, because she knew they would, Scully knew that she would always have Melissa on her side, watching out for her.

When Scully pulled her fingers away from her cheek, she whispered, “I think he already has.”

**Author's Note:**

> \- Kristin: Merry X-mas! I had so much fun with your prompt and I hope you love it. :)  
> \- Nikayla: Thank you so much for the speedy beta! You're a life saver. *hugs*  
> _ I muse confess that I stole the idea of sister's talking on the phone during the first snow from my grandma. Every year when snow falls for the first time, she talks about how she used to always call her sister and talk all night. It's very touching.   
> \- Reviews are love.  
> \- Disclaimer: Not mine.


End file.
